Unwilling Thief
by millenniumthief
Summary: After the destruction of his village, Bakura begins to realize there are certain things he will have to do if he wants to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh! Need I say more?

Unwilling Thief

A set of tiny feet ghosted across the smooth Egyptian sand, crunching slightly but virtually silent. The young boy was fleeing, trying his hardest to escape the memory of what he had just seen…and what he had done.

Without any warning, the flat landscape threw an unexpected obstacle in the boy's way, a single jagged rock. It sent the child flying into the air to land with a harsh fall into the sand. Nursing his injured foot, he started to cry as the realization of the night's events caught up to him.

--

_His mother had shaken him awake, accompanied by screaming and glowing fire. "Bakura, wake up. You have to run, honey. Hide, make sure they can't find you. Then escape."_

"_Why, Momma?" the young one asked. "What's happening?"_

"_I can't tell you now. I'll make sure to find you later, but I have to stay. Now __go__!" she insisted, shoving Bakura out of a window just as the front door burst inward. "I love you…"_

_Bakura was already running, but he still whispered back, "I love you, too…"_

_The small boy found a narrow alley to hide in, watching as all his friends and family were marched to their deaths. Unable to watch anymore, he slid back in the alley until he came to the sheer rock face of the cliffs surrounding his village. Using the houses as leverage, he managed to climb the wall of rock with only a few cuts and bruises._

_He sat for a while hugging his knees to his chest, watching the flames, his eyes wide and fearful as screams echoed through the black night. Just as he gathered enough courage to move, he heard someone behind him._

"_What have we here?" a low, drawling voice asked. Bakura couldn't help jumping up and whirling around to stand face to face with his enemy. He was wearing the same style armor as the men that had murdered the villagers; the young one briefly wondered if he was going to die._

_Before Bakura could think anything else, the soldier lunged for him. Bakura used his small body to his advantage, ducking under the man and kicking the exposed back of his knee. Thrown off-balance, all Bakura had to do was push, and the soldier was sent flailing over the side of the cliff the boy had so recently scaled. Bakura heard the man's neck snap and he gasped, staggering backwards, only to start running as fast as his legs would allow…_

--

"I killed him!" the small one sobbed, though no one could hear him. "I didn't mean to! I didn't…!" he wailed, as if he thought some unknown presence would appear to forgive him. But no one came…

Eventually, Bakura's panicked mind calmed enough for him to realize he wouldn't live through the desert night exposed as he was. Since he couldn't find anyone, he would have to make do with his own shelter. He finally picked himself up off the ground and began walking.

The simple movement revealed the extent of the damage to his slight frame. Dark red blood oozed out of gouges in his knees and left elbow. His right arm ached from where he had unconsciously tried to break his fall. But he still trudged on, back the way he had come because he knew he could find refuge in the cliff wall. He managed to keep a steady pace through the pain, but it still took him much longer to get back to the rock face surrounding his village.

The soldiers were still there; he could hear them shuffling around, likely searching for survivors. Regardless, Bakura knew he had to make it halfway down the cliff to the private hideaway he had found only a few months ago. He hissed in pain as he began his descent, his entire body throbbing.

Working his way down was much harder now that his body wasn't flooded with adrenaline, and his movements were slow and jerky. He gasped again when a rock broke away under his hand, causing his knees to scrape the wall as he tried to regain his footing. Bakura held still for a few moments, catching his breath and calming his nerves. Gradually, he inched his foot down to the next purchase and continued down to his secret hideout.

There was barely enough room for him to squeeze into the gap in the wall, but once he was inside, it opened into a larger space with a hidden supply of dried meat and a blanket he had stored there once. Bakura decided to save the meat for later; he wasn't quite hungry after what he had witnessed and knew he would need it later. He instead settled under the small blanket, sand sticking uncomfortably to his sweat and tear-soaked form. Shuddering, he gently squeezed his eyes shut, snapping them open again as the soldier's death replayed behind his eyelids. Realizing he couldn't sleep, Bakura spent the rest the night staring blankly at the wall, occasionally whimpering as he realized the life he had once known was over…

--

A/N: So, what did you think? I'm trying to put more detail into my stories, and I hope it's working. This will hopefully be much longer than my three and four chapter stories, if I can keep it going. See you soon!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers: Asiera, Angel Dog Blader, Journey Maker, sherabo, and Kelsey Ishtar! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 2

Bakura finally stretched his cramped muscles shortly after dawn. The surrounding cliffs meant little sunlight could permeate the darkness of the dead town, but there was still a considerable amount filtering into Bakura's cave. The boy strained to hear any sounds coming from outside the alcove and was both relieved and saddened when he heard nothing. Next, he peered out of the entrance, making sure no soldiers were still lurking there. Finally satisfied that he was safe, he leapt lightly down, managing to land on his feet and fall to his hands, keeping his knees and elbows away from the ground.

Now outside, he took time to examine his wounds from the day before. Sand had crusted against the scabs as well, and the skin surrounding the gashes was red and inflamed. Bakura gingerly felt around the area, moaning when pain exploded from the point and spots swam in his vision. As hungry as he was, food would have to wait until he could find something to take care of his injuries. Fortunately, he knew just what he could use…he made his way through the winding streets to his now-abandoned home.

Standing in the doorway, the young one could see the signs of the struggle that had taken place after he had been pushed out of the window. Dark splotches covered the dirt floor, and Bakura could only guess that they had come from his mother being dragged away. Tears once again pricked his eyes as he recalled her last words. She promised she would come to find him; now he was certain he would never see her again. Bakura shoved the thought from his mind. Even though he was young, he knew he had to be strong and take care of himself. Remembering his reason to even come to the house, he looked for the trapdoor he had seen once his father use, grateful the mat covering it had been undisturbed. Soon, he was staring down into a cellar filled with alcohol, and he grabbed one of the jars.

"Alright…" he muttered, bracing himself for what he was about to do. Uncapping the jar with his teeth, he poured some of the liquor over the cut in his right knee. "Ow! Uhnnn…" he groaned as the liquid burned across the wound. His stomach flipped uncomfortably, and he was glad he hadn't eaten. Biting his lip to distract from the pain, he dripped a little more on the wet skin. It didn't burn quite so much, but Bakura realized there was a flaw in his plan.

No matter how much he poured, the sand remained in the scab. Until he could get it out, it wouldn't heal right, meaning even more infection. Concentrating hard, he tried to pick the individual grains away, but that would take far too long, and he had limited time until the infection progressed too far to take care of. Cringing, he grabbed a cleaning rag and dumped a generous amount of liquor onto it.

Bakura gently rubbed at his knees, scrubbing harder once he determined light brushes were getting him nowhere. His head spun with the agony, black spots once again accompanying the pain, but he refused to stop. He scrubbed until no traces of the scabs remained, then soaked two more rags in the alcohol before tying them around the wounds.

He hesitated slightly before starting the same treatment on his elbow. Even flexing the arm caused the skin to stretch painfully. Yet, Bakura knew he couldn't stop. His arm had taken the brunt of the fall, and to leave it untended would be a fatal mistake. Chewing his lip again, he attacked his arm forcefully with the rag, rubbing the scab away. He used his teeth to help tie another alcohol-treated cloth to his arm. Panting slightly, he forced himself to adjust to the burning caused by the liquor on his injuries.

During this time, Bakura looked curiously at the half-full jar in front of him. He wasn't supposed to have seen where his father kept it, but he had woken up with a nightmare and stumbled upon him drinking some, placing it back, and closing the trapdoor. He had wondered why it had to be hidden from him; after all, his mother used it to clean the scrapes and cuts he would get. But, not wanting to get in trouble, he had slipped back into his room and gone to sleep.

Well, if his father drank it, it must not be too harmful…Steeling himself, he lifted the rim to his lips and let some of it drip in. Swallowing, he felt the same sensation in his throat as he had with his injuries. Unable to prevent it, he started choking.

He stared even harder at the liquor once he had calmed down. If it burned like _that_ on the way down, why would anybody drink it?! It was better just to keep it as an antiseptic, Bakura decided. He covered the jar again, leaving it sitting on a table. After all, nobody was there to take it…

Carefully standing, he made sure the rags stayed where he had tied them and went into his parents' room, collecting one of the work sacks in there. He entered his own bedroom, collecting clothes and changing into a long tunic, tossing his torn and bloody night shirt to the side. Working around the rest of his house, he gathered all the food he could find, and then headed out to the rest of the houses as well.

An unsettling wind had picked up while he was safely inside his home, bone-chilling and eerie. Bakura shivered, but continued on his way, stopping in all the buildings and taking the food that had been left inside. Certain he had enough to last, he went back to his hideaway. Bakura knew he didn't really have to hide, but it felt more like home than the abandoned houses. He slung the bag over his neck and shoulders and climbed up, shoving the bag in with his injured arm while balancing with his other.

Once inside, he examined his spoils, pulling out some bread and cabbage. He would have to eat the cabbage first, as it would be the first to rot. The onions would keep longer, as well as the radishes. The meat and dried fruit he would save for the worst possible emergency. Salt was the last thing he needed in the desert heat. After he had finished assigning order to the food he had, he took a bite out of the cabbage.

"Yuck…" Bakura mumbled, forcing himself to swallow. Still, it was better than starving. He ate the rest of the vegetable without complaining to himself again and settled down. As much as he hated to admit, the heat had worn him out and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Even so, in his cool cave, he had to pull the blanket over him. It was warm…and comforting, something that reminded him of what he had grown up with. Lolling off to sleep, he closed his eyes, relieved when no images flashed unbidden in his mind. The sadness remained, though, and he drifted away with a tear glistening on his cheek.

--

A/N: (Sniffle) Poor 'Kura. It must suck to be a little kid, all alone. Sorry if it's dialog-lacking, but there's no one to hold a conversation with yet…It'll change soon.

I must warn you. Unfortunately, I got handed about 3 projects, an essay, and a test to get done…I might not be able to update this week. I'm sorry!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello, again! More big thanks go out to Asiera, journey maker, mystic48138, and Vaseshipper this chapter! Thanks for the awesome reviews!

Chapter 3

Bakura couldn't believe how quickly his food supply had dwindled in the two weeks since the attack. Even rationing hadn't helped, and he was now staring down at the bottom of his food sack, filled only with a few onions and strips of jerky.

He frowned to cover up the expression of sadness threatening to appear on his features. Tears would solve nothing. He would know; he had spent the first week living in between crying fits and nothing changed. Now, more than ever, he had to think rationally. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

There was nothing left in the ruins. The food was either rotten or snatched by mice or other animals. The only liquid was the alcohol Bakura was using to bathe his newly healed injuries. As he saw it, he had one of two options: stay and die, or run and live…or possibly die trying. Neither choice seemed very promising. Then again, did he have anything to live for? Why prolong the inevitable? If he was going to die anyway, the easiest way would be to stay where he was…Suddenly, death didn't seem like such a bad idea.

_Run…escape…_

Two of his mother's last words came floating back to him, and he felt instantly ashamed. She hadn't sacrificed herself just so he would starve to death. A betraying drop of water rolled down the side of his nose and he brushed it away, convincing himself to start gathering up the remainder of his food and clothes before leaving his safe haven.

Bakura crept through the ghost town, shying away from the shadows. At the same time, he was bidding a silent farewell to the place he had grown up. He stopped one last time at his previous home, collecting the last of the alcohol and storing it carefully in his bag. Slowly, he made his way to the entrance of the village before stopping and looking back one last time. A blazing look of determination burned in his eyes and he nodded once toward the houses.

'Goodbye…Mother, Father…' he thought fleetingly, and took his first step away from his home.

--

Bakura couldn't help panting as the desert sapped his energy. His head spun as he watched waves of heat rise up from the sand. In this kind of climate he wouldn't last much longer, but putting the thought of death from his mind, he forced himself forward.

He didn't know how long he had been walking before he heard voices from behind him. Bakura's eyes went wide and he spun around, wondering eagerly if someone had seen him. Maybe they would have water and share it with him. He would be saved! He started to go back to find the source of the sound.

He went quite far before stopping dead in his tracks, all his hopes dashed. He had found the men…and the uniform that had haunted him for the past nights. Bakura couldn't help himself; his feet refused to move, but his entire body was trembling with fear as the men drew closer.

Suddenly, they spotted him. "He's the one! Get him!" one shouted to the others.

Bakura gasped, finally unfreezing his body and stepping backward. Fear fueled him as he once again raced across the soft sand, not sparing a glance behind him to see if they were gaining on him. Finally, his last reserves of energy vanished, and Bakura fell unwillingly to the ground as his legs gave out. His heart dropped as he heard a tinkling sound emit from the bag on his back, but he couldn't worry about it. He was going to be killed by those men, and he turned around to face them.

"What?" he gasped in shock. The men were gone, and there was no trace that they had even been there. Then he remembered what he had been told. He couldn't trust his eyes if he was ever in the desert because of mirages…He groaned in realization at what he had done.

Bakura lay there for a while, collecting his strength as he rested. Eventually, he peered into his bag to see what he had lost. All but two of the jars had broken, alcohol staining the leftover onions and meat…In the space of two minutes, he had lost everything he had to live off of.

A despairing weight settled over his shoulders, and he remained crouched over on the ground shaking uncontrollably. For the first time since he was left on his own, he was filled with rage. He hated the soldiers that had destroyed his life…He wanted to hurt them, or worse. Bakura shook his head as a chill ran down his spine. It was wrong for him to think things like that, but he couldn't stop.

Taking out one of the useless jars, he threw it into the sand, shattering it. He picked up one of the shards, noting how long it was. His innocent features contorted for the first time into the smirk he would be known for; if anyone came to get him, he would be ready.

Suddenly, he gasped and dropped it, the thought finally reaching the scared child inside of him. Bakura's mind raced, contradicting two very different beliefs: revenge or innocence. Surely his parents wouldn't have wanted him to grow up a killer, but…he no longer had them to rely on. They couldn't shelter him anymore.

No matter how much Bakura tried, he couldn't force the evil thoughts from his mind, but he pushed them away long enough to gather himself and start his journey again. There would be time for him to think after he had survived.

Bakura struggled to keep moving, mirages playing with his determination. Some were quite easy to ignore, being so absurd that he couldn't believe his mind would conjure up such an image. Only one was so real as to confuse him…

He had gone for about an hour without seeing the visions from his mind, and none of the ones after his first encounter were human in the least, so he was startled when a woman stood in his path. Convincing himself to ignore it, he walked past it, unprepared for the words that he heard it speak.

"Bakura! You're alive! I was so worried…" she said, relief and joy evident in her tone.

The young boy's back went rigid as he turned around, wonder shining in his eyes. "Mother…? You…you did come back for me! You're here! Oh, Mother!" he rejoiced, hope replacing his fears and doubts. He ran to her, expecting her to take him in her arms. Instead, he felt nothing at all as he ran through the mirage, his heart shattering again as he looked behind to see empty desert. Frustrated that he was so hopeful, so desperate to see her again, he marched on, letting nothing stand in between him and safety.

Several minutes later, another mirage was right in front of him, tempting him to believe it. 'No, it's not real. I'm not going to fall for this again. I ca-' he began to convince himself, until his foot fell through empty air and he pitched forward into the pool of water he had been trying to put from his mind.

Once he had composed himself after the shock of being suddenly drenched and cold, he stared in awe at his surroundings. He had never seen so much water and vegetation in all his life! "An oasis…" he gasped, only hearing of such things in stories. He immediately went to planning. Water was the most valuable thing he could find…and he wasn't planning on being injured any time soon. Taking one of the undamaged jars, he forced himself to dump the alcohol into the sand and filled it again with the clear liquid before him.

Next he pulled out the soiled vegetables, washing them thoroughly and removing all traces of the alcohol. He bit experimentally into an onion, relieved when it only tasted like one. A small grin teased around his mouth as he gazed at his reflection. He was almost happy, not quite there, but close enough. He waded into the pool, delighting at the feel of it against his skin. He splashed some of the water around him, snickering. After cleaning most the sand from his body, he pulled the slightly wet blanket out of the work sack, cleaning it as well.

Bakura laid the blanket out in the sun and retreated beneath the shade of a small shrub while waiting for it to dry. He couldn't force himself to go any further, content to stay in his tiny paradise until the next day.

--

A/N: Surprise! I should learn not to freak out over school work. It all went pretty fast. So, there was the third chapter, and we find Bakura with traces of who he'll become. Please review! They make me happy. ^^'


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it took a little longer…Well, thanks so much to Vaseshipper, Asiera, mystic48138, Vaseshipper again (wink), and Beware. the .Ard-Ri! Your reviews seriously do keep me going on this!

Also, I'm assuming the name Ishtar was here in ancient Egypt. I'm sorry if I'm absolutely and completely wrong…

--

Chapter 4

Bakura shifted uncomfortably as something prodded him in the shoulder as he slept. Attributing it to a stray branch, he merely rolled over and settled down again, completely uneager to get up and start moving. He had almost drifted off when he heard something behind him, and he tensed. Thoughts raced in his mind of what it could be. An animal, perhaps? If so, he was liable to be eaten or at least attacked. He cursed himself mentally. Why had he thrown away that shard he had made?!

Moving very slowly so as not to appear threatening to what could be lurking at his back, he pulled himself up and peered cautiously over his shoulder. What he saw made him nearly jump out of his skin. What he felt came as even more of a shock.

There was a man crouching next to him, very worriedly grasping Bakura's arm in case he was weak enough to collapse after moving. The boy looked in awe at the person touching him, his heart racing as he regarded the first human contact he'd had in two weeks.

"Good, you're alive! Are you feeling alright?" the man asked, gazing into Bakura's searching eyes. The younger of the two blinked and nodded numbly, still unable to believe someone was right there, talking to him. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

Bakura's gaze dropped quickly, and he stared at the sand, playing with it before answering in a whisper. "I'm…alone. My f-family was killed, and-and they d-destroyed where I lived…" An overwhelming wave of sadness fell over him; somehow saying it out loud for the first time made it seem so much more real. He shuddered as he gasped in air, convincing himself not to cry.

It was obvious the man wasn't expecting that answer, as his hand fell away from Bakura's arm and he moved back to give him space. "Who did?" he wondered, using a light, comforting tone to avoid frightening him.

"I-I don't know! Th-they were all wearing the same uniform, b-but I've never seen it before…!" Bakura forced out. "Do y-you know…?" he asked pleadingly, looking up at the man with a searching gaze.

He shook his head, causing Bakura to glance down again. "I'm sorry…there are so many different uniforms around these parts, I doubt I could even begin to guess at who they were." He hesitated a little before continuing. "So…where are you going?"

"I'm not sure…I had to find food. I ran out…"

The man stared at Bakura, contemplating the boy's fate. A soft smile lit upon his features. "Come with me."

Bakura's head snapped up in surprise, his eyes wide and wondering. "You r-really mean that?"

"My daughter is with me," he said, motioning to the wagon Bakura had completely missed. "I would want someone to help her if she was in your situation. Now come on."

Bakura yelped as he was pulled up and carried over to the wagon, wearing a look of indignation. What was he, a three-year-old? Still, it showed that the man was kind enough to care about him…

"So what's your name, kid?"

"I'm Bakura," he replied, still pouting a bit from being treated in such a way.

The one holding him set him on the ground and helped a young girl out of the wagon. Bakura examined her for a while, getting used to seeing another person. The girl probably wasn't any older than he was, maybe six or seven. She had black hair just below her shoulders and clear blue eyes. The white-haired boy got the distinct impression she was analyzing him, too, and it caused a tremble to race down his back.

"Bakura, huh? Well, my name's Ishtar, and this is my daughter, Isis. Isis, say hello to Bakura," he prompted, smiling widely.

A regal smile graced Isis' lips, and she whispered a shy hello. Bakura simply nodded, unable to maintain eye contact with the girl. She had a powerful presence for one so young, and it unnerved Bakura to no end.

"Well, let's get moving! There's no point in dawdling here," the eldest said, getting ready to help Bakura into the back of the wagon. He was surprised when the boy pulled back.

Bakura stared up with an apologetic expression. "Mr. Ishtar…I have to get my things…" he mumbled, running back to gather his blanket, food, and spare clothes. It didn't take long, and soon he was back and climbing in with Isis. The two sat alone in the back while her father steered the horse.

"So, what are you doing here, Bakura?" Isis asked, curiosity overwhelming her shy, observant nature.

The addressed boy's body tensed as he replied with his story, starting with the men who had come and finishing with his journey through the mirage-filled desert. All through-out, Isis gasped and startled at the worst details. When he told of the man he had accidentally killed, she almost burst into tears.

"So…now I'm here, with you. It was very nice of your father to help me…" he ended. "By the way…where are we going?" he asked, realizing that in his rescue, he had never once been told where this family was headed.

"Us? Oh, we're going to the Pharaoh's city. And once we're there, I'm going to tell the Pharaoh what happened to you," she answered with confidence.

Bakura cocked his head to the side, certain the girl in front of him was wrapped up in a fantasy. "_You_ are? How are you going to get him to listen to you?"

Isis giggled at the boy's naiveté. "I'm going there to begin training as a High Priestess. Eventually, I'll be able to speak with the Pharaoh himself!" she replied. Her voice was overflowing with pride, and Bakura couldn't help but feel she was telling the truth. He smiled with her.

"You would really do that for me?"

"Of course. What they did was wrong, and the Pharaoh is supposed to protect his people!"

Bakura's head hung at the last statement, his childish grin fading. "But…if he's s'posed to help us…why didn't he do anything? He wasn't there to protect my family…"

Isis pondered that for a second. "Well…there are so many bad people in the world. Maybe he couldn't get there in time…? But I'm sure he wanted to!"

"Maybe…" Bakura whispered, his mind churning with the things he had just learned, still unconvinced that the Pharaoh might have been on his way to save his village.

Seeing how upset the boy still was, Isis threw both arms around him in a brief hug, startling him. He watched her with wary eyes as she pulled back and smiled. "Hugs make everything better! Don't worry, we'll find out what happened and help you!" she promised.

Bakura finally smiled back, at peace with himself for the time being. "So, what do we do 'til we get there?"

"I'll show you!" the young girl replied and giggled with her new playmate.

--

After playing several games from the back of the wagon, including who could spot cacti first and a very annoying version of "Are we there, yet," Isis' father spoke up from the front.

"There it is, kids! The capitol city, home of the Pharaoh Aknamkanon!"

Both children looked at each other and mouthed the name to themselves, giggling when they couldn't pronounce it. However, the name completely slipped from Bakura's mind as his heart started to race. This was what he had been waiting for. Finally, he could find out who had been the cause of his suffering.

He watched as the majestic city rose high above them, grand and beautiful, with a palace at the very center of it all. He took a deep breath, preparing for what was to come and smiled with relief.

_Finally…_

--

A/N: (Sigh) I know it's short, and I could kick myself, but I haven't quite gotten down long chapter format…Anyway, I'm unbelievably happy right now! My last Comp I paper got chosen as one to possibly be included in the next issue of the campus paper! I'm on a small campus…but I never thought I would ever be one of the ones selected! And all my projects are done for a while. Hurray, freedom! But, on with the story.

Warning: This could possibly be the last happy chapter in the story. Things will take a turn for the worst next chapter. After all, we all know how Bakura turns out…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Here's to you, reviewers! My inspiration comes from you all! Thanks go out to Vaseshipper, pride1289, SasatheShy, mystic48138, ZombieBlinky, Loverly Light, and Asiera! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint…

Chapter 5

Bakura and Isis waited patiently as her father tended to the horse and wagon before leading them further into the city. The youngest of them looked around, trying to absorb everything he was seeing at once. There were so many people, buying, selling, and shouting. The streets were full of goods. A necklace hanging on a cart caught Bakura's eye and he tried to inspect it as much as possible as he went by. He had never seen so much gold! It twinkled out of his view, and he paid more attention to everything else again.

The three stopped at an inn to eat before heading to the palace. Bakura couldn't help staring at the amount of food piled in front of him. His gazed landed on a cut of mutton, and he unconsciously leaned toward it. Noticing Bakura's reaction, Isis' father chuckled.

"If you're that hungry, eat it!" he said, reaching for some figs next to it.

Bakura hesitated only a moment before picking up the meat and tearing a huge chunk out of it with his teeth. He nearly sighed as he tasted it, the juicy, tender chop overwhelming everything else. That meant he couldn't see Isis' expression at his lack of manners, but he wouldn't have cared at that moment anyway. He quickly finished it, getting a drink of water to wash it down.

Finally seeing the others staring at him, he blushed. "Ahh…it was very good…Th-thank you," he muttered, slightly abashed. He ate the rest of his meal more carefully, while Isis asked about what she would be required to do both to become a High Priestess and what she would be expected to do as one. After receiving the answers to her seemingly endless questions, the food was gone, and they were ready to move on.

Once again, Bakura was captivated by the beauty of the city. As people milled about, he stayed close to Isis. Every so often, his gaze would wander, and once he almost got lost. After that, he paid much more attention to where he was going.

"Isis, what's going to happen to you when you get there?" Bakura asked. "Are you going to stay there? Live there?"

"Hmm…yes, living there is required during training to be a High Priestess. It won't be too bad, though. It is very nice in the palace," she replied, sadness barely creeping into her voice.

Bakura heard the edge in her words and a frown creased his forehead. "I take it your father can't stay with you…?"

Isis shook her head. "No, he'll go back home while I remain. He is hoping I have a better life away from our village. It's peaceful, but…we're rather poor there."

"Isis…what's going to happen to me…?" he whispered fearfully. His eyes were pleading as they bored into hers, and she gave him a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry! Father will take care of you! Otherwise, he never would have saved you!" she said, squeezing his arm gently. Together, they walked on.

All too quickly for Bakura, they arrived at the palace, and the boy almost regretted having found the one friend he couldn't keep. But, as they climbed up the steps, he was light-hearted. He was going to live with Isis' father, and he was certain they would see each other again. A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as Isis, fidgeting, tried to get them to move faster. With a vastly exaggerated sigh, Bakura sprinted up the stairs, passing Isis and waited at the top, staring back at them.

"No fair!" Isis huffed. "You're a boy!" She gave him a playful shove, and he stumbled into one of the people standing at the entrance.

Bakura immediately tried to stutter out an apology, but it stuck in his throat as he backed away to look at the man he had fallen on. His blood ran cold as his heart skipped a few precious beats, and he turned and went back the way he had come, making quick work of the stairs until he was collapsed at the bottom again.

His head again filled with the visions of the nightmare two weeks past, his body trembling with every cold wave of fear that washed over him. No…it wasn't possible! How could they have betrayed him so terribly? Bakura prayed to all the gods that it was some sort of cruel joke.

During this time, Isis had run to him, kneeling beside him. "Bakura! Bakura, are you okay?" she asked frantically, trying to place her hand on his shoulder. She gasped as he wrenched out of her grip and scrambled away. She retreated back to her father's safety.

Turning around to confront them, Bakura's expression showed an unknown amount of pain and suffering. "You knew…and you brought me here anyway…" he droned emotionlessly.

"Knew what? Bakura, you're not making any sense!" the elder Ishtar said, trying to prompt a reason for the boy's actions.

"You knew it was them…the ones…that _uniform_…" Bakura babbled, his words becoming incoherent. It was then that they realized what he was saying.

"Bakura, those uniforms are from the Pharaoh's army! They wouldn't have attacked your village!" Isis denied.

But Bakura would not be convinced otherwise. "I recognize it! If that is the Pharaoh's uniform, than it was his army that destroyed my life!" he yelled, anger heating his tone.

"What you're saying is treason, Bakura! You might want to rethink what you're implying," Isis' father suggested, his voice dangerously low.

"No…NO! I can't take it back, not now! I know the truth!"

The man's patience with the young boy in front of him was rapidly fading, and without a second's warning, he roared, "Heretic! Enemy against the Pharaoh! Guards! Guards!"

A crowd quickly gathered to see the cause of the disturbance, several guards among them. Realizing he was trapped with no one to turn to, Bakura took the only option available to him; he searched for an opening in the crowd and bolted, leaving his "savior" behind.

Isis and her father watched his flight through the group of people, and tears threatened to spill onto the girl's cheeks. "What's going to happen to him, Father?" Isis wondered.

Her father crouched down next to her, placing both hands on her shoulders and looking meaningfully into her eyes. "Isis, whatever he said to you, you must forget. He was lying. Never mention it to the Pharaoh or anyone else. And don't cry: he's not worth your tears. Just forget about him…"

Isis followed him to the palace doors, trying to put from her mind the short day they had spent together. In the years to come, she would think less about him each day, until she could no longer remember the white-haired boy her father had saved from the desert…

--

Bakura shuffled uncomfortably in the shadow of the alley he had snuck into. It was all too familiar and eerie a feeling to cope with. Now, he was alone again in a city with no one to care for him or protect him. And although he was still fairly stuffed from the feast in the inn, he knew it wouldn't last him long…

As he rested against the wall, he stared up at the darkening sky, wondering what he possibly could have done to warrant everything that had been done to him. He shivered as a chilling wind swept through the narrow street, and he remembered that everything he had was still in the wagon he had ridden in. A haze of rage clouded his mind as the fresh memory floated through it.

Trembling again, he determined the only way he would regain his belongings would be to get them himself. Without even realizing it, he bared his teeth in a fierce and wild smile. If that was what was to be expected of him, he would just have to live up to everyone's expectations…

--

A/N: (Yawn) So sleepy…I really should get more sleep. Well… (sigh) I kind of struggled with this chapter and it was short again, but I hope it was alright to read. I'll try to update soon and get over this block if everything cooperates. Please review and tell me what you liked and what I can improve upon. I'll see everyone later!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Wow, thanks so much to both my readers and my reviewers! But, a very great thank you goes out to the reviewers: pride1289, SasatheShy, mystic48138, Beware. the .Ard-Ri, Vaseshipper, Asiera, and SkywardShadow!

Chapter 6

With the moon at his back, Bakura crept through the shadows as quietly as possible, hiding among them. He knew his white hair would attract unwanted attention in the night, but luck was on his side. Spying a loose cloth from the cover of one of the market stalls, he searched for signs of life around him. Finding none, he fled across the street, fear filling him for a brief second before he reached his destination.

His instilled morals warred with his desperation. This was stealing, no matter how necessary it was. And yet, if he didn't go through with it, how could he hope to make it on his own? He forced himself back to the soulless person he had become that afternoon, shutting down his emotions before they could consume him. Finally with purpose, he climbed atop the counter of the stall and strained upwards to reach the hanging cloth and pull it down. After a few harsh tugs, it came free, and Bakura wrapped it around his mess of hair.

Looking around once more, he worked his way through the empty marketplace, weaving in and out of the booths. Paranoia was beginning to set in for the child, and he jumped as the wind whispered behind him. Irrational fear overtook him momentarily, and he felt he must go faster. It was all he could do not to break into a dead sprint, yet he couldn't stop himself entirely. As he took the next step forward, a dip in the sand caused his ankle to twist, bringing him down.

'Really smart, Bakura!' he berated himself. 'I'm acting like some stupid little kid. I can't be like that anymore!' He shook his head and sighed softly. He knew he wasn't the person he was before, but he wasn't learning fast enough. His mind was adjusting slowly to the new role he must play, and his body had yet to catch up to what he was putting it through. 'Just a little further…' he convinced himself, fighting off fatigue and the urge to sleep. 'Just a little longer…'

Mentally chanting the phrase, he stood and paced slowly and calmly to the entrance of the city. Just outside was the holding pen for the horses, as well as storage for the wagons and chariots. He quickly located the one he had ridden in, and silently crawled into it.

He couldn't understand why it felt wrong. They were his belongings…so they were his to take back. Attributing it to nerves, he gathered up the blanket and onions, stuffing them in his tattered work sack. As he began to climb out, the jar of water hit the wood with a resounding clunk. Bakura froze, hearing someone shuffle around to his right.

"Who's there?" a voice called out in the darkness.

'Oh no…! What do I do, now?' he panicked, stiffening even more. Before he had decided to move or stay, a sturdy arm wrapped around his middle. Another hand moved up to his make-shift hood and removed it.

"Let me go!" Bakura growled, flailing as much as he could. His captor turned him around to get a better look at the fiery child.

"What're ya doin' here for, kid…?" the watchman asked, oddly unfocused. His grip loosened temporarily until Bakura shifted enough to kick him in the kneecap. The boy was dropped with a loud yowl and he scampered away with his bag in tow, stumbling slightly over a bottle and spilling it. Bakura recognized the smell, but couldn't quite place it, instead focusing on escaping. Shortly glancing back, he notice the man collapsed on the ground and making no effort to get off of it. Turning the corner, Bakura slowed down, knowing he wasn't going to be followed.

He set up camp beneath one of the stands that was propped above the sand, twisting his way under it. As he drifted into an uncomfortable sleep, the bottle stayed on his mind and how it might have helped his escape…The man's slack grip and unfocused gaze, and also the smell. Just before he fell asleep, it hit him. Alcohol; he had been lucky.

--

Bakura awoke to whispers that morning and someone down on the ground, looking straight at him. He rolled gently out from underneath the stall and peered up curiously at the people who were staring at him.

The two shoppers jumped back, looked away and began whispering again, anxiously trying to avoid eye-contact with him. Bakura could only hear slight snatches of the conversation as they tried to ignore his presence.

"Is it possible that he-?"

"I don't know…that guard was pretty drunk…"

"But his hair is white, just like he said!"

"This kid is not a ghost!"

Bakura rolled his eyes and shrugged, walking casually away from the pair. They watched his departure and breathed a collective sigh of relief. As much as they had tried to convince themselves about his mortality, that white hair still bothered them. Now with the event done with, the two turned their attention to more important gossip…

Ducking into a side-street, Bakura dug out one of his last three onions and took a bite out of it. At this rate, he would be hungry by tomorrow. The thought scared him; he would have to learn to be more careful about stealing from the people in the city. No matter how large the city was, word had a way of getting around, the prime example being the two idiots who thought he was some kind of "ghost-thief." He had to scoff a bit at that. He may be a thief now, but the ghost comment was completely ridiculous.

Once the onion was finished, Bakura resisted the urge to reach for another. He couldn't risk starving for the rest of the day and be desperate enough to steal before nightfall. Instead, he felt he would have to wait out the remaining daylight, until he thought of something to do. He wandered around the city until he found a street that was quieter than the rest; he was going to practice being a better thief.

He kicked off his sandals and tip-toed silently across the sand, working on stealth before agility. It was almost impossible to walk without crunching slightly, but soon, the crunching was inaudible to his own ears. He only hoped no one else would be able to hear it while he was stealing.

After going a few rounds about the street quietly, he tried running without making a sound. He couldn't believe how much more difficult it was. The sand dug into his heels, rubbing the skin raw, yet he didn't stop. He tried different styles of sprinting, running on the balls of his feet, or rocking into the step. Bakura decided the first method worked best, especially when he shifted his weight slightly forward.

The sunset found Bakura practicing his landing into the sand. He would jump as high as he could, then adjust his body to absorb the impact. He only fell back once, when he bent his knees too far to stay steady. After that, he worked even harder to make up for the mistake, until he could walk, run, and jump on the sand while staying virtually undetectable. Bakura was confident he wouldn't be caught as he went to get something to eat.

His eyes still flicked nervously around him. He would be stupid to be so overconfident that someone would see him before he even reached his destination. Eventually, he saw an open window in one of the passing houses and went for it.

He pried himself up to the level of the window, balancing on the sill precariously before leaping gently down onto the soft floor. The room was warm, meaning either a clay furnace was lit, or an oven had been used recently. Judging by the smell of fresh bread, Bakura guessed it was the latter. Now, if only he could be lucky enough to find it uneaten.

As he made his way through many of the rooms following the scent, he felt his heart race and his mouth water. The thought of such a tasty treat had him completely on edge. He finally found the dining room and kitchen and looked around for the object of his desire.

It was lying on the counter, but it wasn't what he had expected. There appeared to be less than a fourth of what was there originally. Bakura sighed mentally, but snatched it anyway, knowing it was a better meal than he would have gotten without stealing. He debated going back through the window he had entered through, but then opened the window in the kitchen and slipped out, closing it softly behind him.

He ran a decent distance away from the house before examining his spoils. His eyes glowed as they took in the bread, not too doughy and perfectly soft. As much as he wanted to devour the whole thing, he tore off a small piece and popped it into his mouth, savoring the flavor and the small victory he had managed. If every house he snuck into was as simple as that, perhaps being a thief wouldn't be as bad as he had first thought…

--

Hee hee! I had a fair amount of fun with this chapter, and I don't even know why! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I liked writing it. As always, please let me know what you think, good and bad. I hope to see everyone next time, OK? ^^


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Well, here we are, at lucky chapter seven! And I wouldn't be here without my reviewers: Vaseshipper, Asiera, pride1289, mystic48138, SkywardShadow, and Loverly Light. Thank you for your support!

Chapter 7

Bakura dusted off his hands after escaping his latest victim's house. During the short month he had been thieving, he hadn't expected to become so adept so quickly. Tonight, he had made off better than any other. He was now cradling a large melon, careful to make sure he didn't drop it.

After trying to pry it open, he picked up a rock off the ground and stabbed it into the thick skin, spreading it enough to get his fingers into a small crack. The piece came off in his hands and he ate it hungrily, ignoring the slightly sour taste to it. He reached for another piece, knowing he had to eat it all or risk it rotting.

He thought for a moment about the part of town he had been stealing in. While not incredibly poor, there was little wealth, and delicacies such as melons were far and few between. However, that made it easier to steal, and he hadn't been seen yet. There were still rumors going around as to who he was, prompted by the incident with the watchman. However, most stories had been completely blown out of proportion, and Bakura doubted anyone could ever guess who he was.

He had slowly been gaining more confidence about his abilities as a thief, and now he wanted to test them. Bakura looked around the desolate part of the city he was in. While the bread and occasional vegetable were alright, he hungered for more. It was time to head to the richer part of town. He knew it was frequently stolen from, as some of the poorer people were always pleased to hear when it happened, but he wondered how easy it would be for him. Cleaning the rind of his melon, he gathered himself and worked his way deeper into the city.

Bakura was certain to be careful. The farther he went, the chance of guards was more likely. Through a gap in the houses, Bakura saw the palace and was overtaken by a surge of greed. How was it fair that the Pharaoh could live a live a life of luxury while those below him struggled? Bakura glared as he thought out the answer.

'It's not,' he decided. Anger, greed, and overconfidence were a dangerous mix in Bakura's emotions, and he quickly became eager to prove himself. That was where he would practice; not even the Pharaoh's own home would be safe from him. He grinned as he concocted a plan to get inside, and what he would steal once he was there. 'Here I come…'

Within a few short minutes, Bakura was pressed against the outer wall of the palace, breathing heavily in anticipation and nerves. He let his head rest back for a second while he collected himself, momentarily questioning his own sanity. If he was caught while inside, it would mean his life. But at the same time, he would be redeeming himself in a way. He scowled, calming his frayed nerves and surveying his surroundings.

He flinched as he heard voices coming from above him, and peeked slowly around the corner to the staircase where two guards were talking about recent events at the palace.

"So, I heard the prince is getting fussier lately…"

"Well, what do they expect? What five-year-old seriously wants to spend all day studying?"

"You have a point there…"

Bakura noticed they had their backs to him and became restless. If he didn't move soon, he might not make it past them. There was no time for second guessing; he forced himself away from the wall and scurried up the steps and in through the palace doors before he even realized he had moved.

He arrived at a grand hall with pillars holding up the ceiling and gasped before he could stop himself. Quickly placing his hand over his mouth, he slid up against the edge of the room and looked at the beautiful structure. There was a throne at the end of the room, raised on a platform slightly taller than the rest of the floor. An altar was set up at the foot of the throne, but Bakura ignored it as he gazed at the painted walls. He shook his head to clear his mind of the awe he felt, and escaped into the hallway at the back of the room.

He found a corridor full of bedrooms, and even in the lateness of the night, people were still shuffling about. Bakura didn't know why, but then a sudden yelp caused him to jump and hold still.

"Be quiet! You're going to get us in trouble!" a voice hissed.

"But…we shouldn't get into too much trouble…It's a celebration! We're supposed to be excited!" another responded with a happy giggle.

"I know _that_, Mana, but we're _not_ supposed to be out this late at night!" the first objected.

"You and your princely attitude…" said the girl with a frown evident even in her tone. "Is this the first time you've ever been out at night, Prince?"

"What? Oh, o-of course, not!"

Bakura listened as the conversation grew louder, and realized that the two in the room in front of him were coming closer to the door. Frantically, he looked around for a place to hide and hurled himself out of a nearby window and on to the outside balcony waiting there. He peered inside just long enough to see Atem and Mana dart out of the room and scamper down the hall.

Sighing, Bakura slipped down the wall and sat, composing himself as he looked at the sky. Realization dawned on him as he caught sight of the moon. It was completely full, and he remembered what the day was. Today would be the day of the celebration for the flooding of the Nile. It also meant…

Bakura's eyes filled with tears temporarily as he muttered three words to himself. "Happy birthday, Bakura…"

He didn't know how he could have forgotten. The day was almost done, and he hadn't even remembered it was his own birthday. 'I guess I had other things to worry about…' he thought. Perhaps the melon was some form of a birthday present from above. At the very least it made the day easier to think about.

He sighed again and dragged himself back inside, continuing on his way. He noticed a stairway leading down at the end of the corridor and decided to take it. 'Perhaps this is the way I need…' he told himself, eager to get what he had planned on. He cringed as he slid on the first worn step, catching his balance before he could tumble head first down the dark stairwell. Taking more care on the way down, he soon entered what appeared to be a storage area for the guard's armor.

Bakura smiled as he rummaged around some of the equipment, triumphant when he held up a jeweled dagger. Knives like that were hard to find on the outskirts of the city, but in the palace, they were everywhere! His grin widened when he fished out another.

Footsteps began to echo from the stairs and Bakura hurried to hide behind one of the tables in the room, still clutching his find. As he watched, a tall, sallow man came into view and disappeared farther into the room. It occurred to Bakura that there was an altar down there as well. The man began to murmur to himself, unaware that anyone was listening.

"Egyptian Gods, I beg you forgive me for what needed to be done. However, even with the sacrifice at those at Kul Elna, our great kingdom is still in danger, and we have need for devices more powerful still…"

Bakura trembled as he heard the man's words echo back to him. To hear the name of his destroyed village tossed out so carelessly, and the meaning of his words…Bakura's frame shuddered even more violently as grief, rage, and fear all combined to overwhelm him. This one person…it sounded as though he was singlehandedly responsible for the destruction of Bakura's life, and he didn't even sound sorry about it.

"Please, grant us the ability necessary to protect our kingdom from those who would harm it, no matter the cost at which it must be done."

Now he was asking for more ruin and chaos, for what? Power, protection? Bakura's head spun uncomfortably as he tried to remain steady. He was shaking so badly, he almost gripped the bladed edge of one of the knives he was still holding. The man finished his prayer and turned to leave, mumbling something about the upcoming festivities that had to be planned. An ominous glint of gold shined from the spot where one of his eyes should have been, briefly catching Bakura's attention, and then he was gone.

An unexpected rush of memories invaded Bakura's mind, causing him to think back on the raid on Kul Elna. Wasn't that object part of the ritual those men had performed…? Was that really all a human life was worth: gold and power? And then, when the necklace in the market captured his attention, perhaps that was just some conjuring of his subconscious drawing him towards the gold jewelry.

As Bakura struggled with the knowledge he had overheard, one strange fragment of thought strayed to the front of everything else, causing him to scoff and whisper bitterly, "Yeah…happy birthday…"

--

A/N: Poor guy! I'm getting to points in the story where I might have to skip some time to major events. A day by day synopsis would be much too long!

More random trivia: The Flooding of the Nile is a celebrated holiday starting August 15th. I'm not exactly sure when Thief King Bakura's birthday is, but it sounded reasonable that it would land close to good Bakura's.

It's close to finals week during my first semester! HOW?! I swear, spending time with you guys made it all fly by! ^^ But…more time will be spent on homework and projects. Sigh…I'll update when I can, which is hopefully often, but I might fall behind a little. Sorry...Well, please tell me what you thought of this chapter, and I'll see you later!

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Is everyone still there…? I apologize for the time it took for this, but I'm panicking about college.

Here it is: Thank you to all my reviewers last chapter! SasatheShy, SkywardShadow, Asiera, mystic48138, Loverly Light, and pride1289!

WARNING! This chapter does have blood, violence, and death in it. Hope that doesn't give too much away. But if you are weak-stomached, it might be a little bit much.

Chapter 8

Bakura wasn't sure how long he remained crouched behind the table before his mind and body started screaming at him to move. His knees ached considerably, but even that pain was dulled by the sudden wrenching sensation in his chest. The knife in one of his hands slipped and clattered to the ground as he reached up to clench the soft cloth over his heart, as though he could stop the agonizing thumping.

Everything was far too confusing for Bakura's tastes. He had to get away, find more out, and then plan. Before, he had been merely satisfied by surviving day to day; now he was out for blood. He no longer cared whose it was. A guard that had been there, the man wishing for more power, the pharaoh who allowed the travesty to occur…it didn't matter anymore.

The tiny shred of sanity the boy had managed to retain through everything ripped away from the rest of his soul. Bakura wanted to scream with the feeling of it. That tiny piece of his mind had kept all his emotions in check; now he was bombarded with everything he had tried his hardest to control.

Sadness, loneliness, and pain all swirled in a confusing and destructive barrage of images. His mother, the infections, the Ishtar's betrayal…It all made him sick to his stomach, and he doubled over at his waist while trying his hardest not to lose the melon he had eaten. The more he gained back of his control, other feelings forced their way to the front of his mind.

Anger, revenge, strength, and power flooded through him. These were the emotions he could deal with. He welcomed them, aware that they were changing him into someone as cruel as the one who was just in the same room as him, and yet he couldn't bring himself to care. His entire body now brimmed with confidence, and he rose off of the floor to escape, strapping the knives he still held around his waist.

He could still feel the uncomfortable pounding in his chest as he moved through the palace. A sliver of fear remained in the very back recesses of his mind, but he could ignore it and deal with it later. Now, he held his knives carefully, ready to defend himself as he snuck about. He caught sight of one of the guards, one of the two that had been at the entrance. He was still talking, and even through the fog of rage, Bakura knew that it would be foolish to go that way.

Instead, he looked to the window for escape again. He was only one story up, and the whole palace was supported by ridged pillars. He darted across the width of the hallway, causing the two knives to click together softly. The guard's head snapped up, and he saw Bakura's white hair bounce across in front of him.

"Stop!" he commanded loudly, and another man tried to run up to grab Bakura. Bakura smirked as he ignored the order and jumped out and on to one of the columns. His fingers found purchase in the grooves, and he climbed down, looking up to see two children peer at him from a window before they were ushered away by the man from the altar. His concentration vanished, and he missed the next step. His foot fell, dragging him down with it, his fingers scraping futilely at the surface.

He grunted as he hit the ground with an audible thump. Lucky for the fact he was so light, he bounced back up to the awe of the soldiers staring down at him and escaped into the black night, a high pitched, almost maniacal giggle floating echoing back to those watching.

--

Bakura was riding a proud and emotional high now that his body had calmed a little from his experiences. He was better at being a thief than he had given himself credit for. The two knives jingled against each other, constantly reminding the thief about his treasure. He laughed again, the tinkling sound taking on a harsh undertone. Excitement flooded his veins, making him completely oblivious to the teenagers coming up behind him.

One of them tackled Bakura's knees, bringing him down instantly, then flipped him over. "Yeah, this is the _kid_ alright," he said scathingly to the other two. "You've caused us a lot of trouble, stealing from our part of the city, and what's this?" he added, fingering the first knife Bakura had stolen. "You've been busy even tonight."

"Who are you?" Bakura spat, squirming underneath his attacker. He struggled to dig his heels into the ground and dislodge the older boy.

"You don't deserve to know. What are you, five years old, and you think you can compete with us."

"I'm _seven_!" the white-haired thief barked, jerking his hips up and causing the older one to fall off of him. "And I know I can compete with you!" he yelled with all the ferocity and hate he could. "You haven't been to the palace, have you? You're nothing but pathetic cowards!"

The three boys all stared in amusement at the young boy standing with confidence and pride before them. His eyes were burning with anger, and even though he was half the size of the others, Bakura knew they weren't going to intimidate him. He was a child with nothing to lose but the chance of vengeance against his enemies. These boys were nothing compared to that.

The first boy chuckled. "Cowards, huh? Well, if that's how you expect us to act…" he trailed off, motioning the other two forward. "Oh, and as for who I am, you can just call me Osiris, because we'll be the ones to kill you."

Bakura's gaze hardened as he regarded the two boys coming toward him. They were thieves, too, he could tell. However, they were much larger and probably slower than him. Bakura knew he had the advantage here. They both drew a knife of their own, with a large blade at the end. Wielding one would take much more strength and take more time than Bakura's small bladed ones. He pulled his first from his belt.

The teenagers rushed him at the same time, one managing to wrap an arm around Bakura's chest to hold him. That one received a quick gash in the leg from Bakura's knife. His arms went loose, and the younger slipped out of his grasp and danced around the second, drawing his other blade. He kept it angled toward his arm so that he could simply pull the knife through the air to attack.

Bakura really had no idea what he was doing, but his instincts were serving him well. As they came for him again, he darted in between the two. They didn't dare attack him in such a position. It would put each other in danger. By now, the white haired one realized he couldn't get close enough to fight. Being much smaller with a shorter blade, he would be put in danger.

He threw caution to the wind at the same time as he threw one of his knives at the teenagers.

They saw the maneuver coming even before the knife left his hand, and weren't even startled by the flash as it flew in between them. A grimace appeared briefly on Bakura's features, before being wiped clean by another blaze of determination. Meanwhile, the two smirked as they advanced. He only had one knife, and both knew he wasn't about to throw it away as well.

Bakura hesitated only a second. He could see the misplaced confidence in their eyes. Already, they thought they had seen all he was going to do. They believed they had cornered him. After all, he was too short to attack directly, and he wouldn't throw his only weapon away, right?

With a harsh snarl and yell, Bakura hurled himself at the one on the right, keeping his knife poised to kill. The teenager also raised his knife, prepared to stab the boy in the heart as he approached. The sand flew beneath the thief's feet, and he slid into it and under his target, slicing the knife back. After hearing a yelp of pain, Bakura knew he had connected with the older one's calf.

Bakura pulled up his right foot, stopping himself and spinning to the left off of it. With a shining crimson blade, he jumped onto his victim's back and stabbed dead center into it. Bakura knew he had hit the teenager's heart when blood spurted from the wound and splattered on his face. He was startled as a few drops fell into his panting mouth, and he swallowed instinctively.

The taste was unexpected, coppery and yet it had a strange sweetness to it. It was warm, and oddly he had…_liked_ it. It gave him a strange thrill that he had taken something of such importance from the idiot who had decided to attack him. This was what revenge felt like.

The boy collapsed lifelessly beneath him and Bakura took in the magnitude of his act. The other two around him stared as he gazed at the bloody blade he removed from the dead body's heart. In a trance, he lifted it to his lips and tentatively licked at it. A drop slipped from the corner of his mouth as he moved his head to glare at the other teenager as he tried to come at him from behind again. Bakura grinned, his strange, pronounced child's fangs gleaming. With a simple flick of his wrist, the knife embedded itself in the boy's stomach. He struggled to remain standing, but a combination of nausea and pain brought him to his knees. He was dead in seconds.

"Osiris" gaped at the carnage of what used to be the rest of his gang. Bakura turned to face him, his shirt bloody, though none of it was his. He smirked with a purpose, to unnerve and terrify the teenager.

"I warned you. I said you were nothing but cowards. You would have been better to run away."

The scared teenager took flight into the dark and Bakura collected his knives, leaving the bodies and sauntering meaningfully through the streets in the opposite direction. The high he had experienced earlier had returned, and he felt more excited than he had ever been in his life.

The last thing Osiris heard that night was the same terrifying giggle that had led him to Bakura in the first place.

--

A/N: (Gasps and catches breath, panicking) Finally, here's another chapter. Was it alright? Should I up the rating for this chapter? I'm not sure…Now to study. Finals are next week! How, it's not…(Moans and passes out)

Bakura Ryou walks into the room and checks the girl's pulse. "Well, as long as she's alive...She would like you to know that she appreciates your support, but unfortunately, she might not be able to update this week, or even the next. But don't worry! She'll be fine, and she'll come back! Just know that she's thinking about you all." He nods and tilts his head, waving. "We'll see you all later."

He stops temporarily. "Oh, I'm sorry if this chapter disturbed anybody. My yami can be quite vicious…"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Whew! Sorry for making you guys wait so long…Well, here's the latest shout out! To: Dei Riktur, pride1289, SkywardShadow, Asiera, mystic48138, Loverly Light, SasatheShy, Kytrin, and XionItachi, thank you all so much, both for making last chapter the most reviewed chapter, and topping fifty reviews! You guys rock! And on with the story…

Chapter 9

Several weeks had passed since Bakura's encounter with the gang in the center of the city, and things had taken a turn for the worst. Rumors about the "ghost-thief" had resurfaced and word had spread about the white-haired one that had murdered two of the cities youths and raided the palace. Bakura couldn't even risk being seen during the day light. He was certain if anyone were to see him, he would be instantly recognized and killed on the spot.

To make matters worse, he was plagued by nightmares during the short hours he managed to get any sleep. The two teenagers staring blankly at him, the first guard he had accidentally killed…they taunted him behind his closed eyes. Restless nights were making him careless, placing him in further danger. Once, he had almost been caught because he couldn't prevent himself from yawning and the father in the house he was stealing from managed to hear the slight breath.

His mind still spun uncomfortably whenever he thought about the night he snuck into the Pharaoh's home. Most of it was a blur hidden behind the violent emotions unlocked in him that night, but he could still remember the flash of gold that seemed to be part of the reason behind the attack on Kul Elna.

Bakura knew he had to figure out a way to find the facts behind that golden item, but to do that, he would need to invade the palace for a second time. It was far too dangerous to attempt with security being tightened around the entrance and normally vacant hallways. Even worse, if Bakura were to find written information, he would have a difficult time deciphering any of the hieroglyphics, the unfortunate truth in only being seven years old. And he couldn't risk taking any papyrus records with him in case they were discovered to be missing.

There was only one wise decision he could make: head for the place the whole mess had started, escaping danger and searching for facts at the same time.

Bakura prepared for the journey by stealing as much food as he could possibly hope to carry, as well as a few jars of water and another heavier animal hide blanket. He wouldn't be going on foot, either. He crept to the front of the city where he had narrowly escaped the drunken stable master, peeking carefully into the stable to find him passed out on his stool, a bottle grasped loosely in his hand. The boy rolled his eyes. Only an idiot would leave himself so vulnerably exposed.

_Well, it's not like he'll be causing me any trouble in that condition. It's best just to leave him._ Bakura chuckled to himself. That man was going to need a good excuse to answer how someone stole a horse from under his nose.

Moving much more carefully than the last time he had been there, he dodged between two rows of logs forming the outer wall and quickly sized up the different horses. Several were simply pack animals, used to transport supplies to the city, and Bakura ignored them. He needed one that was swift, fierce, and strong, one…like the horse directly in front of him.

It was a marvelous animal, pitch black with just as dark of eyes. Yet, the dark eyes held a shimmer of intelligence. It had obviously been raised for quick transportation between different settlements, as its legs appeared sturdy and more than capable of supporting a rider at high speeds. Its body was slender for a horse, and there was hardly any fat over its muscled frame.

The horse didn't shy away as Bakura approached it slowly, and only snorted softly as the boy held up his hand for it to sniff at. Reassured, Bakura stroked its nose softly, trying to show the horse that he wasn't going to harm it and only needed its help. As he walked down its right side, he trailed a hand along its flank. Peering up at the massive animal, he suddenly noticed a problem.

How could he possibly mount a horse of that size? There weren't any places he could hold if he tried to climb up and the horse was too far away from the side of the pen for him to use the wooden rails. Trying to push it to the railing would only get him kicked.

Another snort and the brief sound of movement caused Bakura to flinch as he realized the actions came from the other human in the pen. He spun around quickly, making the horse behind him whinny and pace. The new noises disturbed the drunk, but only caused him to roll over, an action that took him over the edge of the stool to land on the ground.

He let out a soft grunt as he collided with the sand, but made no other movement. Bakura's eyes widened as he gazed at the now un-occupied seat, and he snatched it from beside its owner. He placed it beside the horse and crawled up, sliding awkwardly onto the animal's back. The thief wasn't exactly sure how he would stay on, since the blanket had been removed and there weren't any reins, but as the horse fidgeted beneath him, he simply grabbed some of the hair in front of him.

Then came the next problem, getting the horse to move, another thing that he hadn't considered. He gently squeezed his legs against the horse's side, begging it to start sprinting. When that didn't work, he rocked back and forth, also with the same results. Growling in frustration, Bakura didn't hear the stable master waking up behind him.

"You again?! What're ya doin', now?!" he yelled. "Get offa that horse!"

Instead of freezing like the last time he had been caught, Bakura lifted himself off of the horse, only to bounce back down and dig his heels in as he fell. The horse let out a startled whinny and bolted into action, Bakura having just enough time to grab onto the fur in front of him again.

"Ahh! Whoa, horse, whoa!" the boy yelped, afraid of being thrown off, but the horse paid no attention to him as it reared back and began to gallop toward the fence. Bakura was fortunate enough to remain firmly seated when the horse leapt the fence and he scrunched down closer to its back as the wind whipped around him.

As the drunk watched the thief escape with the horse, he shook his head. Even he couldn't lie his way out of the trouble coming way, but perhaps the truth would be a better excuse to tell.

--

After the horse's initial shock wore off, Bakura found himself quickly approaching the cliffs where he had grown up, yet at a much more bearable pace. The horse had slowed to a trot as so not to exhaust itself in the quickly warming desert. Glancing over to his side, he caught a glimpse of the oasis he had been rescued from, knowing that it wasn't a mirage this time. He also knew that by horse, he was less than an hour from the remains of Kul Elna.

Soon, he was able to see the canyon in the cliffs where his village rested, and he steered the horse towards it. Right before he reached the entrance into the ruins, however, the horse began fidgeting, obviously bothered by something it was sensing. Once he was inside the canyon, it refused to move.

"Come on…What's wrong?" Bakura asked, more to himself than his mount. He tried to dig his heels in again, prompting it to canter further, but even that failed. Sighing, he slid carefully off and worked his way into the village.

The cold wind once again raised the hairs on the back of Bakura's neck, the reminder that something terrible had happened. The light from the now bright, afternoon sun didn't shine into the dark chasm, and even though he was used to being out of the sunlight, it bothered the thief.

Now that he was back after being away for so long, Bakura noticed something that he hadn't after the massacre, something that was missing in the safety of the Pharaoh's city. He couldn't place what it was, but it felt like a presence constantly watching his every move. It felt dark and sinister, even worse than his encounter with the violent gang-members…It felt evil.

Bakura began to follow the presence, undisturbed by the feeling. Whatever it was kept drawing him further back into the ruins, until he came upon one of the houses that had been locked the first time he searched through the village for food. He had thought nothing of it then, and hadn't bothered trying to open it in his quick raid. Now that he knew how to open anything in his path, he made quick work of the lock using some wooden fragments he found scattered on the ground and let himself in.

Inside resembled more of a temple than a house, as it extended back into the cliff's face. The feeling grew stronger as he came to the foot of a small flight of stairs. He hopped agilely up the first four to land on a short platform with one more step in front of him. Looking ahead, he noticed a large stone with carvings on it, as well as crevasses where something had been removed from it. Moving closer to it, he knelt down to touch one of the empty spaces, scrambling back when a surge went through his hand.

Bakura quickly recovered from the startling sensation and once again examined the stone in front of him. It seemed to raise more questions than answer them, but by the time Bakura went back to the capitol city, he would know what had happened. He wasn't going to leave until he got what he came for.

--

Well, another late Happy New Year to everyone! I hope you had a lot of fun last night and that the year has started off right for you guys. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I'll see you next time. College doesn't start up 'til the twelfth, so I should hopefully be able to update more quickly. Bye!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers: SasatheShy, mystic48138, Asiera, XionItachi, SkywardShadow, Loverly Light, Vaseshipper, Niilan, TripleMelody, Dei Riktur, and xXForeverForgottenxX!

A very big thank you and a very warm hug also go out to Vaseshipper, who kicked my butt into gear to get this finished.

Chapter 10

Bakura looked down once more upon the stone altar, fighting off the terrifying sensation to flee. He shuddered against the chill that ran down his spine as he knelt down to it, hesitating slightly before placing his hand upon it. This time, the jolt that had entered his fingers was absent, and he explored it further.

The stone was cool and smooth to the touch, and there was a strange residue around the edges with an almost oily texture to it, perhaps to keep something from sticking in it. His eyes cast about on the seven shapes that were dug into it, paying particular attention to one that was perfectly round. It seemed to be a recurring shape in some of the other holes as well. Bakura finally realized he was staring at a mold.

As he thought back to the awful night, he could still remember the giant pot everybody was forced to fall in, the liquid that would splash over the edges and how golden it looked. Gold…in the round mold…

Bakura gasped. That was it, the connecting piece! It was the object that had been created in the round crevasse that had now taken the place of the old man's eye. That was part of the power he had been given, and it had come from the murder of the citizens at Kul Elna. Bakura quickly took count of the empty holes, coming to a total of seven overall. Seven objects, each possibly with the same mentioned power as the one he already knew about.

Now that the shock of figuring out part of the puzzle had worn off, the thief felt himself quivering with anger again. So many dead, just for some piece of power…it was sickening. Bakura was so caught up in his own feelings, he didn't notice the presence flowing out of him and swirling around him at first.

The more he sat there focusing on the stone altar, the colder he began to feel. He attributed it to the fact that he hadn't moved in a while, but when he felt something brush against him, no more than a breath of wind, he snapped out of his daze, spinning around and coming face to face with a writhing mass of energy.

Jumping back in fear, he watched as the presence followed his movement and grew, as though feeding on his terror. He was unable to tear his gaze away as he backed over the tablet and ended up falling off of the platform. He paid it no attention as he continued back, colliding with the wall at the far end of the room.

The longer he stared at it, the more solid it appeared to become. The swirling black shapes seemed to compact in on the larger mass, adding layers to the misty center, until Bakura was staring at a large creature, even a monster for lack of any other words he could attach to it. As he looked at the snake-like being, he pressed himself further against the wall, but surprisingly, it made no move toward him.

Bakura slowly began to relax once it seemed he wasn't in immediate danger. He still didn't trust that the monster would let him leave, but he tried it anyway. He crept around the outer edge of the room, keeping a watchful eye on the creature in the center. He continued to be amazed as it watched him back, but stayed in place.

As calm as Bakura tried to remain, self-preservation won out in the end. He ended up sprinting toward the doorway back to the ruins. Almost as quickly, the serpentine tail from the monster curled around him, stopping him in his place.

"NO! Let me go!" he yelled fearfully. Struggling, he was lifted up to hang face to face with the creature. "Please! I didn't do anything!"

_What are you doing here, mortal? _a voice reverberated in his head. Bakura was so startled he quit wriggling in the monster's grasp and instead hung limply.

"I-I…"

_Answer me, child,_ it commanded, tail tightening dangerously.

"I just…I wanted to find out why it happened…" Bakura stuttered out, tensing up horribly as his breath caught in his chest.

_Why what happened?_ At this point, the thief knew the monster was toying with him. It was obvious the creature was aware of what he meant. But, it seemed like it wouldn't back down until it got its answer.

"I wanted to know why my village was destroyed, and find out what power the golden items were able to grant. I needed to know who could be capable of murdering a hundred people all for the sake of that power…"

Bakura hated having to explain himself as he was to this being. He could feel the piercing gaze on his body even when he tried to look away. At his last words, however, he also noticed a tremor of shock run through the tail. _You are from this village? You alone have survived? They will be pleased…_

The thief was afraid to ask what the last statement meant, yet he was unable to stop himself from inquiring, "Who are they?"

A frightening chuckle started in Bakura's mind, echoing throughout it as a chilling wind once again swept through the room. _"They" are the dead, the damned, the murdered, and loathed. "They" are the ones who lost their lives at the hands of royalty. "They" are the ones who still reside in this wreckage. And you will help them._

Around the altar, more figures began to rise, appearing to come from the stone itself. Yet more drifted through the walls, dark shapes that swirled around the strange pair. And as though the mere sight wasn't enough to terrify the already frightened boy, the noise that arose from them chilled the blood in Bakura's veins.

Screams, cries, and moans were all accompanied by much more sinister cackling and shouting. Those that didn't appear as sounds of mourning could only be described as celebrations. The spirits were indeed pleased by Bakura's appearance, the one person who could understand what had happened and had the desire to do something about it.

Confusion washed through the thief. "What am I supposed to do? How can I do anything to help these…spirits? What do they want?"

_Revenge,_ hissed the voice in his mind. _The same as you, correct?_ At Bakura's numb nod, the noise reached a new level, deafening to his ears and almost matching the renewed cackling in his head.

For the first time, Bakura seriously doubted what he had forced upon himself, trembling. _Then you will have no problem. Simply continue on your path and I will assist you._ The boy was unceremoniously dropped to the ground and instantly surrounded by the black souls. As he felt them brush against him, cold and dark, he was also aware of something probing at his mind. Within seconds, something burst through his mental barriers, burning through the rest of his nerves and seeming to end in his heart.

He rolled on the floor in pain, clenching his eyes shut and clutching at his forehead, screaming against it. The spirits seemed excited by his reaction, as though his fear and pain affected them too. Closer they pressed to him, but they were no longer ethereal and harmless. Whatever magic or energy the spirits possessed was quickly becoming dangerous. The sharp wind cut at his skin, nicking him from time to time. As he writhed, his head snapped up, causing one of the blades of wind to slice deeply across his eye, nearly gouging it out. He yelled in agony before falling limp to the ground once more.

"STOP! I can't…I can't take…anymore…" he panted, holding one hand protectively over his torn eye. At the protest, the spirits seemed to calm, slowing and dissipating from the area. Bakura struggled to sit up, only able to open his left eye to survey the scene around him. He vaguely noticed the blood from his right eye dripping down his forearm to pool on his chest and lap.

The monster had disappeared at sometime during the commotion, yet even in the thief's weakened state, he knew it couldn't have just vanished. He started to fall backwards, exhausted, and heard something clink against the stone surface when he brought his hand back to stop himself. He glanced slowly down to see a gold trinket encircling his wrist, almost looking like feathers extending from the band. "What's going on…?" he moaned.

_I said I would help you. Use that to call your Ka, the monster that was just standing before you. It is the only way to defeat the power of the Millennium Items that the Pharaoh and his priests hold. The more your hatred grows, the more powerful your Ka will become. Don't fight it._

Bakura again moaned weakly, the words barely registering as he heard them. What price had he paid to receive the information he had gained? At the same time, he now knew what the items were, making his search that much easier…

An uncomfortable buzzing rang in his ears and the outer edges of his vision were turning black from blood loss. He tried to stand anyway and make it out to the remains of Kul Elna, but before he took a step, unconsciousness claimed him and he fell back to the stone floor, coming to rest in the puddle of his own blood.

--

A/N: Well, I'm afraid I have to put in the "back to school" warning too. With all the writing being forced upon me, I find it strange that this is harder to write than my research paper…I think all my ideas are being sucked out of me for my classes. It's going to be hard to keep this going while I'm in college.

I apologize for the time it has taken to upload this, and for how long any future updates will take, but I swear to you all I will not abandon it! The next chapter will start a bit later in Bakura's life; how far ahead, I'm not sure yet, but it will be later. Thank you all for reading up to this point, and please continue reviewing. I love all my reviewers so much!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm going to start off with an apology. I feel like crap for making you wait two months for an update. Hopefully, you won't have to wait that long again, although I can't make any guarantees…

And now! It's time to thank my inspirations, the reviewers! Thanks this time go out to: mystic48138, xXForeverForgottenxX, TripleMelody, pride 1289, SasatheShy, XionItachi, SkywardShadow, Loverly Light, Dei Riktur, Asiera, and unchained shackles! You guys seriously rock!

Also, Unique Art had the idea of killing writer's block, which I think actually helped me a lot. I just had to imagine getting past it, and I was there! Thanks Art!

**Warnings**: Blood, death. (Grins evilly)

Chapter 11

"Stop! Thief!"

Choosing not to listen to the words shouted at him, Bakura once again found himself in a situation much like the one three years before; he was running over the sand in an attempt to escape someone all too willing to do away with his life. However, one very important detail was different this time around. Bakura was no longer defenseless.

Turning to face the man who had foolishly chased him out into the desert, he called upon the force living inside of him. "Diabound! Go!" he barked out in a much more authoritative voice than he had once possessed. Bakura grinned as his Ka appeared in front of him, facing the now-terrified man. Diabound quickly formed a sphere of energy between its hands, flinging it at Bakura's pursuer. As the man took the brunt of the attack, he collapsed to the ground, still barely breathing.

Bakura let out a low chuckle. "Come, Diabound," he ordered, pacing away from the fallen man and the small village he had stumbled across. Unfortunately, his triumph was cut short as his stomach growled painfully. Sighing, he took out the small loaf of bread he had stolen before the house's owner returned just as he had tried to leave. He should have known to wait until after night had fully fallen, but he was too hungry to ignore at that moment.

He devoured over half of it before storing the rest in a side pocket. Still unsatisfied, he forced himself to continue on his way, knowing that he had been exposed to the town and there was no point in going back.

This had been his life for the past three years: living out in the desert, skipping from town to town, and surviving courtesy of stealing or eating any small animals he happened to come across. Life as a thief was much less rewarding than he had thought it would be. Luckily, he had Diabound, which had indeed grown stronger with every item he had stolen and every moral he had thrown away.

Trudging through the desert sand, he again gave a bitter sigh. There had to be an easier way of surviving. He just had to find it. Still, living in the night was rewarding in its own right. The thief had become so accustomed to the changing of day and night that he could tell how long before the sun rose, and essentially how much time he had left to steal. He could see in the dark as well as he could during the day, the stars providing all the light he needed, and his reflexes had improved as well. The time he had spent stumbling over hidden rocks and dips in the sand had forced him to react quickly unless he wanted to hurt himself.

Perhaps the greatest improvement was in his instincts. Ever since the night he had received the scar now running down his cheek, he was more in tune with his surroundings. He had a connection with the creatures and entities around him, a sixth sense that warned him when something was wrong. Much like now…

A chill ran down Bakura's spine, not in fear but anticipation. The wicked grin that had faded now returned full force as he glanced to his side where a jackal was stalking his movements. The lithe form of the canine wouldn't provide too much meat, but it was enough. Bakura stopped Diabound with a simple command as it moved to attack the animal. He wanted to take care of this one himself.

Bakura knew that if he made the first move toward the jackal it would bolt. Instead, he waited, watching it for any hint that it would attack. It quickened its pace as Bakura slowed, thinking the prey it was stalking was injured by its lack of movement. Baring its teeth, it growled low in its throat before crouching down. The thief shifted his stance as well, drawing his knife, fully prepared to kill the jackal as it attacked. Without any further warning, it lunged towards Bakura's neck, but it never got that far.

Dragging the knife through the air, the thief tore through the exposed flesh on the animal's throat, feeling warm blood coat his fingers. In only a few more seconds, the jackal was dead.

Bakura stared at the corpse, feeling exhilarated and out of breath even though he had only made one move. It was a sense of power that flooded through his body, one that he never tired of. His heart continued pounding and he made no attempt to calm himself. The electricity running through him set his nerves on fire. He loved it.

Beginning to chuckle, he glanced up at the heavens, speaking to the gods he had long since stopped praying to, elaborating on what he found so funny. "A jackal, huh? Why, that's _your_ representation, isn't it, Anubis? Have you grown weary of me, already? Well, it looks like I've won this round. I wonder…if I destroy the god in control of guiding those passed into the afterlife, would I remain behind? Could I die then?" Bakura ended his rant with another burst of laughter. Shrugging, he approached the fallen jackal.

Settling down beside it, he cut off some of the flesh at the thigh, quickly popping it into his mouth raw. He had no time to be disgusted; he had to do what he could to survive. Bakura paid no attention to the blood that dripped down his chin. He tore ravenously into more of the meat, eating it in great chunks until he was full.

Bakura stood and stretched, even choosing to lick his lips clean of the liquid gathered there, and looked around. He could see the great cliffs now that he was paying attention, but from how large they appeared, he suspected he was halfway in between them and the Pharaoh's city. He sneered at the thought.

The thief hadn't been there since he had left to discover more about the Millennium Items. However, the more he thought about the city, the more he felt drawn to it. Something inside, perhaps his improved instincts, was pulling him towards it. Bakura had learned the hard way in his growth as a thief that ignoring the feelings he had could be costly.

Angling himself in the direction of the palace, directions being another skill he had picked up, he began walking swiftly. Having grown much stronger and more agile, he was sure he could be there by dawn. He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do once he reached the city, but at least he could clean himself in the river that ran past. That seemed as good of an excuse as any.

--

Bakura stared up once again at the vast palace resting in the middle of the other buildings, feeling the hatred surging up inside of him. He would have to walk right through the middle of the city to get to his destination. Walking around would take too much time, and dawn was fast approaching. So, he cut through the narrow streets, lurking in the shadows.

His back stiffened as he heard someone shuffle to his left. Snapping his head to the side as a tremble shot through his spine, he found himself staring into an open window at a man going through the motions of beginning the day.

The thief shook himself mentally. He was becoming far too jumpy in this particular set of streets, the same ones that he had once before encountered—

His musings were cut short as a hand wrapped around his mouth and a voice hissed in his ear, "You…"

Bakura's eyes went wide. _Osiris…!_

He started struggling immediately, but the hand was wrapped too tightly around his mouth to allow him to move very far. Bakura might have grown into his ten year old body, but Osiris had grown as well. He must be seventeen or eighteen now, and at the moment, he had the advantage.

"Even after all these years, you've still been causing me trouble. People are _still_ looking for you. You little freak," Osiris spat.

Bakura tried to yell through the hand muffling him, but all he managed was a pathetic whine unbecoming of him. Still, if it was a choice between certain death and being seen and rescued, his pride could handle that blow. He twisted his head just enough to see through the window he was beside. Osiris' eyes followed the movement.

"Looking for help? _I don't think so!_" He dragged the struggling thief through the empty paths to a much more secluded location before throwing him to the ground. That was his biggest mistake.

Before Bakura even landed, he was already reaching for the dagger at his side. Twisting as he hit the sand, he absorbed the shock of the landing and recovered quickly, springing up and taking a fighter's stance towards his opponent.

"You stupid runt. You think you can go against me, still?" the older boy asked in a misplaced show of confidence.

Bakura's response was cool and collected. "Of course," he answered simply. "You're still a coward, afraid of death. I can tell. I, on the other hand, have nothing to lose and nothing to fear. You are nothing compared to that."

Osiris had to admit that he was unnerved by the speech from the young boy. He had aged quickly if he spoke like that. It sounded unnatural coming from Bakura's lips. However, as sure as Bakura seemed, Osiris still liked relying on his same tricks. A simple flick of his eyes had someone approaching the younger thief from the shadows behind him.

Bakura shook his head slowly, chuckling and smirking. "Heh heh…still a coward," he repeated. He sidestepped the person behind him as they surged forward, arms extended in an attempt to immobilize him. Thrown off balance, all Bakura had to do was draw his knife over the back of the man's exposed neck. He held up the knife for Osiris to see as the other man slumped forward limply.

Now the elder boy's eyes widened, and Bakura made another show of licking the flat side of the blade, enjoying the thrill that ran through his body. Osiris shivered and stepped back, fully prepared to flee the scene, but at Bakura's snicker, he stopped.

The white-haired thief glared into the other's eyes and took a step forward. "Are you not man enough to kill me? Can't you do anything without the assistance of your little…'friends?'" he asked in a soft, child-like voice, messing with Osiris' head. "You've caused me so much trouble…do you really think I'm going to let you leave?" The eldest was so unfocused, he missed the flash from the gold band around Bakura's wrist.

"I don't care!" he yelped, turning and attempting to run. He had already fled into the trap before he noticed Diabound towering above him. As the tail ensnared him, he broke down into a stuttering fit. "N-No! Please don't! Don't!" The tail squeezed tighter as Bakura moved closer. "Wh-Who _are_ you?!"

Bakura's chuckle grew into an all-out cackle as he tossed Osiris' words from before right back at him. "You don't deserve to know…" he said, enjoying the freezing effect on Osiris' body the words had. "However, since everyone needs a title…and as you will soon be disposed of, I'm the _new_ king of thieves…"

With a flick of his hand towards Diabound, Osiris was flung unceremoniously to the ground before a ball of light followed the same path, striking the teenager and leaving nothing but an empty shell behind. Bakura approached the body, prepared to loot it when a scream cut through the air.

Whirling around, the thief saw a woman staring straight at him. Having no other option, he turned and bolted, picking up the path to the river he was following earlier. Having blood on his clothes from the jackal before, and now having added some from the slain gang member, Bakura knew he would be captured if anyone saw him in them.

He reached the river quickly, jumping in with little ceremony. He went to work cleaning the evidence of his crime, all the time wondering if he was finally going to be found out.

--

A/N: (Blinks) Not the best chapter, but it is the longest. Wow, it feels great to have this flowing again! Homework is still being a bear, but I refused to have it snuff out this story! It means a lot to me for anyone to read this far. You guys are my inspiration, and I hope you've continued to enjoy this story.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: It's that time again! Reviewer shout-out! Huge thanks and hugs go out to pride1289, randomDragons135/mystic48138, Vaseshipper, unchained shackles, xForeverforgottenx, Dei Riktur, SasatheShy, TripleMelody, SkywardShadow, Asiera, and Loverly Light! It means the world to me that every one of you stayed with this story. Thank you all with all of my heart.

Unwilling Thief Chapter 12

Bakura scrubbed hard at the clothes he was wearing, trying to get rid of the evidence of what he had done. The woman's scream had told him everything. He had been seen, he would be reported, and he would be lucky if he didn't get chased out of the city before he could escape.

He hadn't even noticed how much time had passed while trying to clean out the stain. The sun had already risen, shedding light on his morbid work.

Being so preoccupied in his task, he didn't hear the slight movements of the girl who was creeping up behind him. She watched him for a while, curious why he was moving so frantically. Finally, her inquisitive nature got the better of her.

"What are you doing?" she called out, tilting her head to the side. She jumped slightly when he turned to the side and he stared at her with wide eyes. She took in the now pink tint to his shirt and gasped. "Are you hurt?!" she asked, quickly becoming compassionate.

"Uh…" Bakura flinched back away from her. This girl didn't recognize him! That meant he was safe for now, as long as he went along with the story she was already assuming of him. With very little movement, he inflicted a shallow wound on his chest before turning back to her. Holding a hand over the injury, he did his best to force an embarrassed blush and smile.

"You _are_! You need help!" the girl said, approaching him. "Here, let me see it."

Bakura slowly backed up, feeling suddenly strange. "No, it's fine. I promise."

The girl shook her head. "What's wrong? I'm only trying to help you. I know someone who's really good at healing potions and stuff. So, let me see how bad it is, and I can start thinking of how to take care of it!"

As she tried to pull his hand out of the way, he jerked back again, pulling his arm out of her grasp. The sudden movement sent them both flailing into the water. Once the girl had regained her footing, she swam over to Bakura, finally examining his cut.

"Hmm, it's not too bad. I'd say a salve and some bandages would fix it right up!" she decided.

"How do you know that?" Bakura asked. He could tell she was at least two years younger than he was.

"Oops…that's right; you probably don't know who I am!" She gave a nervous giggle. "I forgot…well, first things first. I'm Mana! I'm learning magic with my master, so I know a bit about how to treat different things. Actually, my lesson for today is…" Mana trailed off, gasping. "Oh no! My lesson!"

Bakura watched as Mana became more and more flustered, running towards the palace a few steps before coming back to him. "Come with me. I'm sure my master won't be too mad once he sees why I was late!"

The white-haired one was taken aback for a few seconds. This "Mana" was practically giving him an open invitation to the palace, all because of one self-inflicted wound! He hid his smirk behind a faked wide smile as he thought about what this meant.

Noticing that he hadn't moved, Mana became frantic. "Please! We have to hurry!"

Once again acting ashamed, Bakura let out a shy, "Alright…" before joining her side and letting her lead him to the palace.

"Here, I know a different way in so the guards won't stop us and you can get healed faster. It's how I got out." Slipping in behind some of the bushes on the outer side of the palace wall, Mana pulled Bakura along until she came to a crack in the wall that led through into the courtyard of the palace. Sneaking out of the bushes on the other side, she froze when she heard her name being called.

"Mana! Mana, where are you?!" a voice echoed around the empty space.

"Coming, Master!" she shouted back. Lowering her voice she cringed. "Oh, I'm going to be in so much trouble. Well, I guess it's best not to keep him waiting, right?"

Mahad looked over to see his apprentice emerge from a rather thorny bush, scratching herself on the way out. "Mana…" he admonished.

"Ouch! Stupid plant, let go!" she said, pulling her skirt free. "I'm sorry I'm late, but…!"

Mahad sighed and shook his head. "Another excuse, Mana? This is the third lesson you have been late to in the last two weeks. And why are you so wet?"

Mana's cheerful attitude deflated as her master gazed at her with a stern eye. "I'm sorry…but I really do have a reason…this time. You see, there was a boy down by the river and he was hurt, so I brought him to you."

Mahad gaped at her. "You mean you brought this "boy" here, snuck him past the guards, and brought him to me? Mana, you don't even know him! How do you know he isn't dangerous?"

A small giggle escaped from Mana as she thought about his words. "But Master, he's even younger than you are, by about three years, I'd say. And he was injured…I thought we were supposed to help people when they were hurt."

Her master started to object, but he sighed again when he saw Mana's hopeful expression. "Fine, show him to me. Let's see what we can do."

Mana retreated to the bushes, pulling Bakura through a bush that wasn't so sharp. "Here! He says he'll help! So…I kind of got a little scared back there. What's your name?"

Bakura thought it through quickly, realizing that nobody he had ever met knew his real name. He was virtually unknown, so what would be the harm in telling one or two people? It was easier to remember the truth than a lie anyway, so he decided to answer truthfully.

"My name is Bakura," he said, not offering up any more information.

"Bakura, huh? Well, it's nice to meet you!" Mana led him over to Mahad before standing at her master's side. "It looks like a simple injury. I'd say a salve would work well, right, Master?" she offered, attempting to get on his good side again.

Mahad took a closer look at it. "This looks like a knife wound…How did you acquire this injury, Bakura?"

"I…heh, I was catching some fish from the river, and when I tried to skin it, my knife slipped…" he lied smoothly. Blushing in an appropriate way, he added, "I should probably be more careful next time…"

"If that is the case, we will need to ensure there is no infection in the area," Mahad decided, causing Mana to wilt again, but it was short lived as he also said, "but aside from that, a salve will do the job. Good thinking, Mana."

Mana perked up, bouncing slightly. "Thanks, Master! I'm glad I could help!"

Her master thought for a few seconds. "If you want to help, find one that I can use for closing an injury while I make something to reduce the risk of infection." He left the two in order to set up a bed he could use while Bakura was with them.

"Alright!" Mana chirped. She held out her hands and waited for her spell book to fall into them. Once it appeared, she rifled through the pages to the salves and potions. Bakura couldn't help looking over her shoulder at the strange symbols on the pages.

"What are those?" he asked, pointing at one of them.

Mana followed his finger to the hieroglyph he was indicating. "That? It means 'moon.' This potion has to sit through one full moon in order to become effective. Why? You can't read it?"

"No. My par-…I was never taught to read by anyone," Bakura admitted, but left out the reason.

Mana wasn't sure what to do, but she figured she could do what she could. She flipped through a couple more pages until she found one that could work. "Hmm, this salve takes a couple days to work completely. Afterwards, you should be perfectly fine! Maybe while you heal, you could learn to read a little."

"Uh…sure…" he replied, not entirely comfortable about having to stay in the palace for an extended period of time. His haphazardly thrown together plan might be ruined once word spread about what had happened in the city.

"Good! Now, let's go show Master Mahad what I've found!" Bakura followed her as she ran off, paying careful attention to his surroundings. It was much different during the day, each corridor lit by the open windows in the walls. He couldn't tell where he had been before, but he knew it was somewhere close. They hadn't bypassed the entrance by much.

Mana stopped in front of an open door, waiting for Bakura to catch up before entering. "Master! I found one!" she said excitedly, startling the older boy out of his meticulous work.

After calming his heart for a few beats, Mahad smiled. "Good job, Mana. I will start making it. Be sure to pay attention…" he said.

Mana nodded, watching as he worked around the room, collecting various ingredients and setting them down on the table in front of him. Pulling out a mortar and pestle, he ground them up, elaborating on the instructions and teaching Mana at the same time. Once the salve was mixed, he sent Mana for some bandages.

While she was out, Mahad turned to Bakura. "I will need to reach your injury to apply the salve." Bakura gave him a lost glance, forehead creased in confusion. "You need to remove your shirt," he elaborated.

"Oh." Bakura turned away briefly while shrugging out of the wet garment and turned back.

"First, I'm going to apply something to prevent and destroy any infection, and then I'll put the bandages on with the mixture, alright?" Mahad asked. Bakura nodded slightly, allowing the other boy to tend to his cut. He was still a little uneasy, never having anyone but his parents look after his injuries before, but he didn't object while Mahad worked. He was pleasantly surprised that the antiseptic didn't burn like the alcohol had.

Once that task was done, Mahad waited for Mana to bring back the bandages. As soon as she returned, Mahad smoothed the solution over them, but Bakura was watching Mana with a wary eye. He couldn't exactly explain the feeling, but having Mana in the room while he was in such a position made him nervous. She looked back curiously at his change in attitude.

Noticing the sudden change in his patient, Mahad sighed. "Mana, could you leave us for a minute?"

"Huh? Okay, Master…" Mana left just as quickly as she had arrived, though in a confused state of mind.

Bakura relaxed again as the bandages were tied around his chest, stretching slightly once the job was done. Mahad fished through a drawer to find a wrap that Bakura could wear while his shirt dried.

"We're done, Mana!" Mahad called, knowing his student hadn't wandered far from the door. She burst in carrying a few books in her arms. "What are those for?"

"I figured as long as he's here, I can teach him to read! He doesn't know how!" she explained.

"But, Mana, he's only going to be here for a night or two at the most. That isn't enough time for him to learn."

Mana cocked her head to the side again. "I can teach him a little though…It's worth a try."

Mahad really couldn't believe how optimistic Mana was sometimes, yet she was quite stubborn. In all reality, he still didn't trust this situation at all, but knowing that his apprentice wouldn't let it drop, all he could do was nod. "Fine, but if he needs rest, let him sleep."

"Okay! Don't worry, Master!" she assured and immediately opened up one of the books. "I learned to read from these. I'm sure you'll do fine learning from them, too!"

Mahad shook his head on his way out of the room. Truthfully, he was a little relieved she had found someone else to bother for the day. He still had studying to do as well.

--

Bakura scowled as he woke up in the bed he had rested in. Night had fallen, and Mana was nowhere to be found. How she had managed to remain so energetic in all her attempts to teach him to read was a mystery to him, and just a bit annoying. He let out a frustrated groan but was glad to be rid of his cheerful, innocent façade.

Sitting up, he knocked one of the books off of his lap, barely catching it before it hit the floor. He considered the possibility of being able to read. Typically, it was a skill that the wealthy and powerful could claim, and just thinking of all the scrolls that must be hiding their secrets within the palace walls was enough to make Bakura's head reel. Yes, there was a definite advantage to being able to read, one that would come in handy if he ever wanted to learn the secret behind the creation of the items that had been created with his parents' sacrifices.

Bakura stretched, checking to ensure his bandages were still in place, and he took some extras from the table. He found a sack that he could use for storage in another one of the drawers, stuffing it full of supplies.

He made sure to take the books with him as he left.

--

A/N: Hrmm…this is only the third time a canon character other than one of the Bakuras has had a major part in one of my stories. But they were essential to getting Bakura out of his situation. How did I do? Was it believable or completely off the wall? Heh heh…do I worry too much…?

Anyway, spring break ends on Monday, so I'm pretty sure I'll get some more homework again. But! I'm out of school starting in the middle of May, and I'm not taking summer classes, so… (crosses fingers) I'll see you then, if not sooner!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Hey reviewers! To SasatheShy, mystic48138, pride1289, Dei Riktur, SkywardShadow, Vaseshipper, TripleMelody, unchained shackles, Loverly Light, and Asiera: THANK YOU! I've said it before, but your reviews are everything to me, and you're always so nice. You are my inspiration.

Chapter 13

A light thump reached Bakura's ears as he tossed the sack of supplies through the hole in the wall Mana had shown him. After he was sure no one else had heard the soft sound, he crawled through after it. Briefly he wondered what they would say when they discovered him gone, but since he would never find out their reactions, there was no point in dwelling on it.

He found as he twisted through the small opening that his self-inflicted wound was still sore, but it was completely closed. He should have found a way to sneak some of that salve out as well, but he wasn't going to go back for any. After all, Bakura wasn't planning to injure himself just to escape being caught. He would make sure to stay out of sight, where no one would even know he was there.

Making his way back through the main road while staying hidden by the shadows, something caught his eye, causing him to stop temporarily. Bakura looked around, searching for the glint that had reflected in his vision. When he couldn't find it, he backtracked and tried again. Finally he spotted it on the ground about ten feet away, shining in the pale moonlight.

He approached it carefully, kneeling to lift the golden jewelry with a single finger, losing his focus as old memories resurfaced. It couldn't possibly be that very same necklace as the one he had seen before, but it was very close. A strange hunger twisted his features as he stared at it, and before he knew what he was doing, he pocketed the tiny item. _Finders keepers_, he thought, retreating back to the darkness with his new treasure.

When he arrived at an isolated alley between a house and the wall of the city just before dawn, he squeezed himself inside. There wasn't much room, but he could hide there until the next night. He pulled out a book and the necklace, enchanted by its brilliance for a moment before cracking open the pages.

He glared at all the glyphs on the page, wondering how on earth he was going to decipher and remember them all, but he still traced his finger across them, following it with his eyes. He was relieved to find most the symbols were simplified images of what they portrayed, but others…he shook his head as he tried to piece them together into some form of word. The sun had risen far into the sky before he tore his gaze away from all the hieroglyphs, his stomach aching with its lack of food.

Bakura knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate with his body protesting, so he shut the cover and thought about what he could do. He had left most of his supplies behind, including any form of hat or cover he could hide underneath. He would have to find one. Also becoming a part of his plan, he looked down at the golden chain, wondering how much he could get for it. Then he could just trade the money or the necklace itself for food. He grinned, realizing if he stole jewelry instead of food, he would get much more food than he had ever stolen. He felt a bit foolish that he had never thought of it before.

Peering carefully around the edge of the house, he made sure no one else was around. He was satisfied and stayed close to the wall, glancing in the window. The house was empty for the time being. Quickly glancing around again, he vaulted himself into the room, moving fast to find a shroud or cloth he could use. Rifling through a cabinet, he found what he was looking for.

The first one he came across jumped out at him, a vivid red. But even as he reached for it, he knew it would be too easily spotted and grabbed the cream colored one behind it. He wrapped it around his hair, making sure no stray strands would be noticeable and jumped out of the same window he had entered through.

Sauntering casually into the marketplace, he arrived at a vendor and examined some of the food he had. Gazing at the man, he held out the necklace.

"How much food could I get for this?" he asked in a no-nonsense sort of way.

The man whistled as he touched it, ignoring Bakura when he jerked back. "For that? You could buy out half of my cart! Where'd you get that necklace?"

Bakura glared. "It belonged to my mother," he lied, feeling a light spasm of guilt that he quickly squashed.

The vendor shook his head. "Your mother? Does she know that you-"

"I'll take whatever you have," Bakura interrupted in a severe yet dead tone. He handed over his treasure and gathered up some dried meat, fruit that was not quite ripe so it would last longer, and a loaf of bread, stuffing it in his bag and walking away, waves of resentment rolling off of him. People asked too many questions! The angry look remained while he went back to his temporary hideout, biting into the bread and opening up the book again.

For a over two years, Bakura remained in hiding in various parts of the vast city, using jewelry to pay for food and spending the majority of every day learning out of the book he had stolen. Finally, he felt confident enough to find some of the scrolls he knew must be hiding inside the palace and pore through them to uncover the secrets he had been waiting for.

Breaking into the palace wasn't even a challenge for the thief anymore, and he took hardly any time to find the altar he had seen that man once before. He doubted the scrolls would be in plain sight, such as the library that he didn't know where to find anyway, so it seemed as good a place to start as any.

He searched through the room, ignoring the weapons in favor of any parchment or books, which he gathered to read later. When he moved a shield, however, he caught sight of a small opening in the floor that disappeared underneath the wall. _Clever…_he thought, _but not clever enough._ Reaching down, he felt around for the hidden object, a book, and started to pull it out. Bakura met with some resistance and jerked it harder, eyes widening as he felt something start to close around his hand. Abandoning the book, he barely managed to escape with his fingers when part of the floor snapped up against the ledge created by the gap in the wall.

Bakura glared, confused as he regarded his missed opportunity to retrieve the object he wanted. There had to be a way for him to get it! He knelt down to examine it again. Running his hands across the surface of the wall, he found his answer. Resting in the wall was a minute button that Bakura quickly tapped. The book he had been trying to reach flew out, plopping onto the floor after hitting his shin.

Ignoring the slight new throbbing in his leg, the thief snatched up the book, flipping through it. The first thing that he noticed was the mention of a shadow creature that had once been sealed away. Actually, it was mentioned a lot…it seemed the man was speculating about the presence of the creature among…Bakura's eyes narrowed into slits. The seven items. That couldn't be right. The presence that Bakura had been sensing next to the stone altar couldn't possibly be born of or connected to those wretched things, could it?

After finding nothing but trivial nonsense in the remainder of the pages, Bakura fled the room. It was time to confront the being he hadn't seen in five years.

Once he had procured a horse from the stables, since the last one had fled after his first encounter in the altar, he had practically flown from the palace to Kul Elna. Gazing up as he rode, he saw the darkness increasing in the sky, troubling him slightly. It had been years since he remembered a storm in the desert, meaning this one would be violent if it spawned. Bakura urged his horse faster as the wind picked up.

He arrived at the dead village as the first bolt of lightning streaked through the sky, revealing the vast, black clouds spanning the entirety of his surroundings. One thing was certain; now that he was here, he wouldn't be leaving until the storm died down. Fat raindrops fell as he led the horse further into the ruins, amazed that it hadn't tried to bolt as well.

Shoving open the door to the altar, he shivered as the first blast of cold swept over him, chilling him. But inside was quickly becoming safer than being outside, so he retreated inside and shut the door behind him and his mount.

Bakura was much more comfortable walking towards the stone than he had been before, now knowing a little of what to expect. As he leapt up the steps, he was stopped by the same evil force that he had met once before. He steeled himself before calling out.

"I know what you are," he said calmly.

_Really? You think you truly know what I am?_ the voice mocked, causing Bakura to jump slightly. He wasn't expecting such a quick response.

"I'm fairly certain, yes," the thief quipped back, answering with his own sarcastic tone.

_Then tell me. What am I?_ it questioned, waiting for the young boy to answer. The wind from earlier picked up inside the cavern, matching the now howling gusts from the storm. Bakura took his time, picking his words carefully.

"The old man from the palace wrote about you. A shadow creature that was locked away. He feared you had been released somehow. Is that true?"

A frightening howl of laughter cut through the relative silence of the cave. _Is that all he wrote?_ the voice asked, letting loose another round of sarcastic glee. _Did he perhaps forget to mention he locked me in the very place I created? Foolish boy, I'm not just a creature from the shadows! I am the shadows! _

"So that is why he's so frightened of you. The evil in the creation of those…abominations unleashed you and he has a feeling that it is true."

_Exactly, and you are exactly the one I need to get to him and destroy him, and everyone else in the world._

Bakura was temporarily taken aback. "The entire world? You mean to kill everyone?"

_Why not? Humans are a scourge upon the Earth. Why? You don't mean to tell me you've grown fond of those responsible for the massacre here,"_ it mocked again.

The thief glared. "Of course not," he snapped as the words sliced through him. "I care for no one. I'll be more than glad to help you rid the world of them."

_Good, then I need you to collect all of those "abominations" as you called them and bring them to me, for then I can be resurrected. You will help me, _the voice said as more of a statement than a request.

"How do you expect me to gather all of these? I don't even know where they all are!"

_They are all in the same place, with the Pharaoh and his court. But I suppose you are right about asking you to do this on your own. I can help you only a small amount more._

Before Bakura could ask what he meant by this, he was surrounded in the darkness by black figures, all staring at him with the same blood red eyes. "Who are these spirits?" he asked, startled by their sudden appearance, but at the same time knowing they were not of the world he was inhabiting.

_The strongest of those killed during the raid, and the ones that thirst most for revenge. They are the only ones strong enough to leave this place, and they will help you find vengeance against whoever you wish. They will not abandon you._

"Very well, as long as they help me accomplish this task you have set upon me, I will accept it," he conceded, noticing a strange whispering at the edges of his senses. His mind was sharpened, and he could feel the hatred and will inside him growing.

_By lending you my power, you now carry a part of me inside you. You will grow even stronger, as will your monster. Do not fail in this task._

Bakura grinned. "Of course I won't," he stated, looking forward to what he could do with this newly acquired power. The storm still raged outside, and he approached his horse, which was already resting for the night. Before he settled down beside it, he stopped and turned.

He let his eyes roam over the spirits in front of him and addressed them. "You will obey me, and you will help me bring down both the one who caused this, and the one who allowed this to happen, the Pharaoh. We will triumph and get our revenge. We will make them fall!" he shouted, letting his voice echo around the chamber. With the scrape of steel on cloth, the red-eyed spirits drew their swords in a silent oath.

A/N: School's out for the summer! Hopefully, this will mean more updates, although I'm not sure how much longer this story will actually run. I now have most of the major plot for Bakura's first life down, and there's not much else important I think I will be able to add. So, it might just be winding down soon!

Expect there to be another time skip next chapter, and I hope you have enjoyed it thus far.


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